Decay
by DrRazorBlades
Summary: It takes a man of equal insanity to truly understand another, and of equal insanity to brake him


The Joker sat across from Dr Arkham, grinning as the harsh pierce of the doctors gaze cut into him like a blunt knife. The clock in the background ticked louder than ever in the silent void which had consumed Dr Arkhams office and threatened to drive both men insane. It was not fun, his anger was not like the Batmans, full of violent rage and hatred. No, this anger was like a teacher or parent scolding a child, this anger was patronizing. With Batman Joker felt equal, elevated even, but right here in this office he felt amused that the naive doctor thought this would have any desired effect on him.

Just as the Joker considered saying something, perhaps to ease the silence. Wait, who am I kidding, he didn't want to ease it, he wanted to smash it into tiny pieces and feed the shards to the doctor as punishment for wasting his time. The clown prince did not like these situations, pushing him to act like a school boy being sent to the principle. No. Anyway, just as delightful thoughts of all sorts started pouring into his brain like an insane trickle in a burst pipe, the doctor slammed a large brick like file onto his desk.

"Do you have any idea what this is?, do you have any idea what you have done?", the doctors mood changed, his anger shifting into hatred as his voice slowly lowered in pitch, nearing a whisper. "I have worked my entire life, dedicating myself and every waking hour to finding a cure for those who are said to be incurable, left in the dark in their own decay".

The Joker stared at Arkham blankly, almost unamused. "I do this day in and day out, and for what?, so you can throw it back in my face, used up and bruised. My efforts wasted". The doctor removed his glasses and massaged his temples, ignoring the presence of the Joker and the five guards that surrounded him.

The Joker had been literally gift wrapped, strapped up in every way in a straight jacket that had been designed specially for him. His arms were twisted around to his back, his knees pushed under him and into the jacket completely immobilising him from the torso to his ankles. The only parts that he could move were his neck and feet. This so far had proved effective in preventing the Joker from acting out his violent 'games' which he had called them.

Previously he had bitten the ear of one of the other inmates who later the Joker claimed had insulted his laughter. In the official Arkham report it listed his argument for his actions as "He complained I laughed too loudly, I merely wanted to help him but making the sound less loud to him you see?"

Since then the Joker was issued a muzzle, another specially designed piece of equipment however originally intended for Wayland Jones. With that and his 'snug' new jacket the Joker could only communicate through eye contact and mumbles which were hard to hear through the heavy metal which gripped his jaws together in a tight clamp. Yes, Arkham had had many years to perfect ways to immobilize their most 'active' of patients.

Dr Arkham stared at the Joker in his 'Hannibal Lector suit' as the guards had come to call it due to its strange resemblance. But if there ever was a man as deranged as the fictional character then it truly was the one in front of him. "I have read through the report of what happened earlier this week with Dr Francis and I have to say that as disgusted as I am by what you have done to then man . . . I am not surprised". Arkham avoided eye contact with the Joker, instead staring at the file and flicking through its pages, avoiding his toxic green eyes. The Joker had a habit of staring, they had taken away his speech, his laughter. His eyes burned with a mix of rage and delight, he made people even more uncomfortable now, laughing with his eyes, smiling every time he blinked. He wondered if soon they would issue a blindfold as well.

Dr Arkham continued to flick through the file in his hands, the file which grew heavier every month with new reports, evaluations, so called 'final conclusions' to how to cure him. Once a doctor actually suggested euthanasia as a method to cure the Joker, saying "It would be the kindest thing to do, like shooting a rabid dog in the head". As far fetched as it sounded, other doctors has come to similar sometimes even more dramatic endings. And sometimes more often than not, Arkham agreed with them.

"Leave us a while will you, you don't need to hear this", Arkham waved the guards away as he closed the engorged file,

"You sure doc?, people have asked to be left alone with this guy in the past. And well . . . well you know they were" the guard ignored the Joker, his concern real. Many guards were genuinely afraid of Joker, and there were more than enough story's about him among them to keep it that way.

"Look at him, what's he going to do exactly", the question was not in need of an answer but as the guards left the room one of them muttered to himself.

"That's what the last guy said".

Once the guards were gone it was just them and the tension was as thick as iron and almost as unbreakable. "457", Dr Arkham simply said.

The Joker looked puzzled, but then his eyes widened in joy when he realised what that number really meant. So many of them he thought.

"You have had 457 doctors in the seven years you have been here. How is it possible for 312 of them to be dead, and in my opinion they are the lucky ones", the doctor stood up and did something not many people did with the Joker, he turned his back. He faced out his office window at the asylum courtyard and his empire. "139 are now traumatized for life and have handed in their licenses, 64 of those are now either patients here or in some other institution, and as for the last 6, we never even found them did we. Weeks pulling this place apart and not even a trace", he turned again to his one man audience. "No one will treat you, no one dares take on your case, not even the 'in over their head' young fresh faced graduates. They used to waltz in here with their advanced degrees and proudly proclaim 'which way to the Joker'", "But not any more, now its 'don't go to Arkham Asylum that's where the Joker is, THATS WHERE AT LEAST 50 OF HIS PREVIOUS DOCTORS ARE INSTITUTIONALIZED" He could not help but scream, those figures had plagued his mind all night as he tirelessly fought to defend himself and his staff against the wrath of the Gotham city council and the board of directors.

The Joker mumbled, or maybe it was a giggle or a cough. Whatever it was it got Arkhams attention and he spun around and paced to the chair where the Joker was perched. "Amused by it?, proud of it?"

Arkham sounded angrier than before but still the Joker did not feel the same rush as he did when batman threw him against walls and into buildings. "I could solve this problem if they let me you know, oh it would be so easy to just lock you in you cell and forget you existence. But even scum like you are protected by the laws you so eagerly break".

Arkham reached into one of his desk draws and pulled out another file and opened it up scanning through its pages before shutting it abruptly and making sure he had the Jokers full attention. "Do you know what this is?" he asked as if the Joker would have a clue. "This is the last. The last one we can find. The only person left on this earth who is convinced that there is a chance in hell of curing you". He placed the file on top of the Jokers, the size difference very visible.

"A while back I was contacted by a man named Hugo Strange who claimed he could cure you, he made a big thing of it despite my lack of enthusiasm. I doubted him and I still do. But all the doctors here are scared shitless of you. Mix that with the pressure from the press, the mayor and the board of directors, this man is my, I mean your last hope"

Arkham ignored the growing sound of muffled laughter and continued, "I am giving him permission to try out some rather unconventional methods, the board has agreed to keep it very hush for now but if successful will be implemented to every patient of your status here in Arkham. You might wonder why I am telling you all this huh? Doctor Strange said that your therapy was to begin before he arrives here and part of that is-", the doctor was cut of by the increasing noise of the muffled laughter.

Arkham has asked that for this particular meeting the Jokers muzzle was to be tight enough for him not to talk, which clearly was not enough. Violently he grabbed the small metal dial and tightened the grip of the muzzle on the Jokers jaw. He felt a wave of relief and satisfaction as he did.

"As I was saying", he continued "Part of your new therapy is openness. Doctor Strange has suggested that we tell you everything that we know about it. He says he wants you to trust him" Arkham felt as if he was going to throw up on those words. 'Trust', what did the Joker know about trust. Or any feelings of that sort for that matter.

Again there was a mumble from underneath his muzzle, a genuine attempt to speak as the Jokers eyes mocked the doctor, but the doctor had had enough.

"Painful to open your jaw in there?, good" Arkham leant down so that his eyes were directly in the gaze of the Jokers, "I've seen you laugh, I bet it tortures you to be silent, unable to voice the sick pleasure you take in your existence", Arkham grabbed the dial yet again and begun to slowly twist it. The Joker begun to mumble as the muzzle became tighter and tighter around his mouth, pushing his teeth into one another, bending his jaw to the point that it almost might break. But still he mumbled, and that mumbling sounded like laughter. His chest shook violently as he laughed muffled by the steel around him, tears poured from his eyes as he became hysterical and found in hard to control his spasms as he laughed at this man, who in the name of sanity had himself become quiet insane.

If Arkham could of he would have waited till he heard a satisfying crunch. And then kept turning. But something inside of him told him to stop and he listened, because when all is said and done it proved he was human to stop. He reversed the dial and pulled his hand away as he kept eye contact. "You'd like me to wouldn't you. You get off on the fact that people want to harm you, and that in some twisted way that makes them like you".

The Joker continued to laugh under his muzzle, slight murmurs emitting from between the hinges of the metal mask as he spasms became less and less. Then the murmurs became words. Doctor Arkham against all his better judgement reached and released the muzzle enough for the Joker to talk, his word sounding echoed and eerie through the metal plates surrounding his mouth.

"For a moment there you reminded me of him", his eyes narrowed and creased with excitement at the edges. "And like him you refused to go too far. You'd much rather stay in the shallow end of the pool with the little fisheys all playing nicely together, but you aren't willing to go any further into the deep end to play with the sharks". The Joker lowered his voice, his usual cracked voice sounding almost inhuman "how disappointing".

Arkham buzzed the guards in as soon as he could reach under his desk. "GET HIM OUT OF HERE YOU HERE ME". The guards grabbed him and heaved the pile of strapped up lunatic from the chair and hauled him away out the door. "TAKE HIM TO HIS CELL AND MAKE SURE HE STAYS THERE. I SWEAR WITH EVERY BREATH LEFT IN MY BODY THAT MAN WILL NEVER LEAVE THE DOORS OF THIS ASYLUM EVER AGAIN"

* * *

It wasn't very well lit the cells on the last floor, all the way down half a mile into the earth. The guards dragged the Joker down flights and flights of stairs to his cell to a door with a million combination, crafted by Wayne Enterprises, courtesy of Bruce Wayne and the funds the Wayne foundation offered to Arkham each year in order to better their security.

They placed him on the steel bed in his cell and undid the bonds enough for him to wriggle out of by himself, but slowly giving the guards enough time to exit the cell and lock it. Once the volt door slammed behind him and he heard the clicking of the locks inside it switch on he had already unwrapped himself from his straight jacket. He did it in a rush of excitement and annoyance, he spread his arms and legs out as he ripped past the straps as if tearing through chains. It felt like heaven, like being born, he was free. Just as fast, he undid the muzzle, without first pausing to remember Arkhams little episode and to savour the sweet memory he would have forever. It hit the floor and echoed through his cell as the Joker spread himself out on the steel bed the cold sensation running up his spin very much a welcome feeling reminding him he was out of those bonds for yet another day. He breathed in lungs full of cold stale air in an attempt to refresh himself from the hot tight grip he had been in for the past two hours.

He lay there in the silence and the darkness as a slow giggle rose from him, building into a chuckle and then into laughter. The Joker thought about Arkhams words as he was rudely man handled out the door. "THAT MAN WILL NEVER LEAVE THE DOORS OF THIS ASYLUM EVER AGAIN". And in that darkness the Joker said in a whisper . . .

"Challenge accepted"


End file.
